Foundations of Ruin
by MikeRPG
Summary: How does a boy named Duncan become the world's greatest warrior? How does a healer called Banon come lead a rebellion? How does the simple nobleman Gestahl come to lead an empire? Forty years before FF VI, learn of the epic adventures that shape the world
1. Default Chapter

Welcome all readers to my second story here in the Final Fantasy section. The response to my previous story, **_Dark Esper_**, received such excellent reviews that I was inspired to try my hand again. However, instead of a sequel to Dark Esper, I decided that many of the older characters of Final Fantasy VI needed more of a background and history.

And so we have this story, a prequel, focusing most notably on Duncan, Banon, and Gestahl, but also on the royalty of Figaro and Doma, the future Elder of Narshe, as well as Cyan and Strago.

This story begins 45 years before the beginning of FF VI, in the year 987 A.M. (After Magi). Following that timeline, the game would have begun in 1032 A.M., and my story Dark Esper would start in 1037 A.M.

As always, I appreciate it when you, my readers, take the time to review my work. Not only does it give me an idea of what I need to focus on, but reviews have in the past managed to keep me out of writing slumps. I appreciate ALL reviews, both good and bad.

**Dramatis personae**

Duncan Ironhand – the young heir of his family's martial arts technique, this warrior is destined to win fame as the world's greatest warrior

Gestahl Emprius – the new lord of Vector, this honorable young noble will be consumed by his obsession for magic and form the most powerful Empire in the world

Banon Teshar – a simple merchant's son, he learns how one man can heal the hurts of the world, and will one day form a resistance group known as the Returners

Myra Teshar – the younger sister of Banon, she is intrigued by the mighty warrior Duncan, but will their feelings lead to doom?

Kendrik Dorn – a guard in the service of his home of Narshe, his brashness could lead to the end of Narshe

Iris Dorn – the happy wife of Kendrik, she worries how her husband's actions have consequences

Arvis Jetter – a soldier of Narshe and friend of Kendrik, how far will he go for friendship?

King Andris Figaro – the young king of Figaro, his choices will shape the course of the world

Queen Raehel Figaro – the queen of Figaro, an intuitive diplomat who will leave a legacy for a new generation

Chancellor Paulus – advisor to the king of Figaro, he will go to any length to aid his king

King Randal of Doma – latest in a long line of noble kings, he is never one to shirk his duty in battle

Queen Shaera of Doma – providing the soft touch to her husband's iron mail, much of Doma owes her for her kindness

Sir Donnor – Retainer to the king of Doma, this elderly warrior must put aside the warrior and become the teacher

Cid Highwind – master of science, his creations can do great things, or terrible things

Hidon – a mage of Thamasa, to what lengths will he go to pull off the prank of the century?

Strago Magus – one of the most talented mages, he will be changed for all his life by a mistake

Cyan Garamonde – a young child in the thrall of slavers, freedom becomes most precious to those who have lost it


	2. Chapter 1: Quirks of Fate

Welcome to the beginning of this story. Please tell me what you think, both good and bad. Thank you and enjoy.

* * *

**_Early Spring, 987 A.M._**

The sun crept lazily over the rolling foothills near the grand city of South Figaro. The forests were light and airy in this region, and there were none between here and the city. Birds began to sing in the trees, flowers opened their buds, and the woodland creatures began their morning routines. A bright morning had awakened to welcome the world.

But Duncan Ironhand had awakened long before the sun, and he was already deep into his morning meditation. Duncan was a tall, solidly built youth in his late teens. His brown hair was cut somewhat ragged and fell down close to his shoulders. He had a handsome, honest face, and his clear brown eyes were closed as he concentrated.

To any observer, he might have fallen asleep while kneeling, but Duncan was far from sleeping. His spirit was already expanding beyond the limits of his body, feeling the bounty of life that was all around him. His father, the great Blitz Master, had trained Duncan well, as the youth had prodigious talent in the martial arts, and had easily mastered the skills of the blitzes, those near-mystical techniques that harnessed the essence of life itself.

Cracking and creaking sounds made their way up the hill, and Duncan half-opened his eyes.

_Another caravan_, he knew instinctively. It was making its way to the city, unaware that the region had become dangerous.

Duncan's eagle-keen eyes swept over the valley, pinpointing the slow-moving caravan as they made their way through the morning fog.

_There!_

On the other side of one of the hills was what Duncan had been expecting. The Forest Knives. A minor group of bandits that had somehow acquired weapons and training better suited for professional warriors, they had become a force to reckon with in these parts south of the city. For nearly two months they had raided at will, but no longer.

Duncan had come into the area when they tried to make him one of their first victims. He had quickly turned the tables on them, and in the past two weeks had thwarted another three attempts by them to raid a caravan. Now it looked like he would get his chance to hit them a fourth time before he moved on.

Effortlessly, Duncan rose to his feet, packing what little he possessed. A small sword and utility tool hung on his back, a pair of knives on his hips. Over his hands went gloves that had lead dust packed into the knuckles, and plates of metal along the lengths of the fingers, but left the joints free. Duncan had punched through solid plate armor while wearing the metal knuckles without injuring himself.

His sleeping bag and morning rations quickly went into his backpack, along with other survival and personal belongings.

Duncan made his way down the hill for where he knew the Forest Knives would ambush the caravan. Idly, he wondered, should he go into South Figaro to get a shower and some real food before moving on?

_I should send a letter by carrier pigeon to Mom while I'm in the city,_ he thought, _she might be getting worried._

* * *

"Now these herbs are useful to help relieve general aches and pains that you might suffer from a day of normal work," the old woman was saying, "but you must remember that they must first be bruised and then steeped in hot water to have any effect."

Banon Teshar listened politely to the old healer, but managed to hide a sarcastic grin behind his trimmed beard. This had been the 22 year-old's first long distance merchant trip with his father, but they had been gone from South Figaro for nearly a year and Banon had truly begun to miss his home.

Banon was not a large man, he was slender but wiry, possessing decent strength from helping repair the wagons and fending off creatures of the wilderness for the whole journey. His blue eyes were crystal clear, but of a paler shade than his sister's.

Myra sat in the lead wagon with their father. She was only 15, but she was beautiful, with her blond hair and blue eyes like crystals. Banon knew that he was going to have some serious protecting as a big brother for her when they got back to South Figaro. He quietly swore to himself that he would break the arms of anyone who hurt his little sister.

He was abruptly smacked over the head.

"Ow!" he cried out with a grimace.

"You weren't paying attention," said the old healer.

_She's got a pretty mean arm_, Banon thought as he rubbed his head.

"Now listen to me," she said, ready to continue her lesson. She pointed to a small handful of flower stems and petals that she had picked up the previous day. "These flowers, when chewed into a paste, are essential for creating eyedrops to relieve temporary blindness. But you should always eat something beforehand, they taste terrible and affect your sense of taste for hours afterwards."

Banon nodded again, unable to keep a smug grin from showing. The woman was an herbalist and healer out of Zozo. She might tell the truth when it came to her profession, but otherwise… well, Banon had been with his father when he'd tried to negotiate with the merchant from Zozo. It hadn't been pretty.

To show the woman that he didn't believe her, Banon grabbed one of the flower petals and popped it in his mouth. The old healer simply watched him.

Banon's face started smug, then slid to curiosity, and then ended in disgust before he spat the flower petal out of his mouth.

"Uhhh, elch!" he managed to get out, his face looking sour.

Without a word, the old woman handed him a waterskin, which Banon gulped down greedily. It helped, but didn't quite wash away the aftertaste.

"Not everyone who comes from Zozo is a complete liar, young man," she admonished him,

"You have hands that are made to heal; to create tonics and potions, to heal with your words and your actions. But first you must learn to _listen_. You must learn to think, and remember to never assume anything."

Banon nodded slowly, trying to absorb the lesson. Then the wagon ahead of them suddenly exploded into flames.

"Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Nearly fifty men rushed out from their hiding places in the hills that surrounded them. They were all armed.

First they used their crossbows and mowed down several of the guards who were reaching for weapons. The raiders then dropped their long range weapons, drawing swords and knives for close combat.

Banon grabbed the old woman and roughly shoved her down. "Stay here!" he ordered as he grabbed his own sword. Banon didn't know what good he could do, but he had to get to Myra.

He ran into two of the bandits before he'd even made it halfway to the first wagon where his father and sister were huddling together while three guards were making a brave stand.

The first bandit cut high, and Banon was able to duck the blow, then threw himself forward, impaling the man. But the other bandit was faster and better, leaving a nasty cut across Banon's left arm. The young man spun around so that he could keep his eyes both on the bandit and his sister. Banon swallowed nervously. Two of the guards were already dead, and the third was already getting overwhelmed.

Banon parried another set of attacks from the bandit, and saw two more coming for him. But before he could do anything else, the bandit suddenly arched his back in pain. A young boy, hardly older than Myra stood behind the bandit. The boy landed a punch and a kick that knocked the older man to the ground and left him unmoving.

"Get outta here, kid," ordered Banon, "Save yourself."

The boy tossed Banon a lopsided grin, then charged into the thick of the fray. Banon was left with his jaw hanging open. Never in his life had he seen someone move like this kid; with a perfect combination of grace and power. Faster than Banon ever would have imagined it, the boy had fought his way through nearly ten of the bandits.

Banon felt a surge of hope. They might all survive this after all.

* * *

Duncan raced for the first wagon, and watched as the last guard fell protecting the young girl and the older man, probably her father.

Two men got in his way. It was the last thing they ever did.

Duncan focused momentarily, finding the life source of both men. In his mind's eye, a small part of each of their bodies began to glow. Duncan launched himself forward, moving so fast there was no way the bandits could possibly have followed him. He landed five, ten, twenty blows all in those small targets on each man, for those were the spots from which their life sprang.

Both men were dead before they fell to the ground.

Looking towards the wagon, Duncan saw that two of the bandits had made it there and were threatening the man and girl. Reaching back, Duncan grabbed one of his knives and let it fly. The knife landed in the throat of the bandit harassing the girl; there was so much power behind the throw that he was knocked completely off his feet.

The second bandit raised his sword to strike down the old man. Duncan focused again, harnessing the energy of life and concentrating it in his hands. A ball of pure energy formed between them, and then he fired the aurabolt. The beam of white light struck the bandit head-on, disintegrating most of his upper body.

"Ancients save us, it's that damn kid!" cried one of the bandits.

"Don't just stand there, kill 'im!" ordered another.

Duncan ran forward and leapt into the air, soaring over the second wagon. On his way down he threw out his leg, crushing the skull of one of the bandits. One of the caravan guards was fighting his way towards Duncan, displaying some impressive swordsmanship. Duncan shook his head, swords were too cumbersome and unwieldy for him. No, better to stick with the weapons that nature gifted him with.

Two more bandits came at him, but Duncan grabbed one of them, leaping high into the air, soaring backwards as he brought the bandit down head-first. Duncan rose to his feet, slowly and deliberately, and beckoned the second man onwards.

"To hell with this," muttered the bandit as he turned and ran away as fast as he could.

One by one, confronted by the caravan guards and the unequalled mastery of combat of Duncan, the rest of the bandits followed the same course of their comrade and fled the field of battle.

Duncan watched the bandits flee. Only about a dozen of them had survived this counter. He didn't worry about them, the power of the Forest Knives had most likely been irrevocably broken today. Oh well, there were always bandits around _somewhere_ to fight and hone his skills.

He turned slightly as the older man from the first wagon approached him. The young and very attractive blond girl came behind him. She was very pale, some blood had spattered onto her lovely face. She was being supported by the guy that had told Duncan to get out of the fight. He was definitely a relative, probably a brother.

"Thank you for your help, young man," said the older man, "We are completely in your debt for helping to save my caravan. I am Varron Teshar. What can I give you as a reward?"

Duncan shook his head. "Sir, I have no need of any reward. It was my pleasure to be of service."

"Who are you, boy?"

"My name is Duncan Ironhand," he answered proudly.

He could hear gasps from some of the caravan guards behind him. His father had remained much more contemplative and solitary than many of Duncan's ancestors, but there was no doubt that the martial arts skill of his family was notorious across the world.

Varron's eyes widened. "Master Ironhand…"

"No, please," said Duncan, shaking his head, "I am not the master of my family's secrets. Until then, I'm just plain Duncan. Maybe someday I could be called Master Duncan, but never Master Ironhand."

"All right then… Duncan," said Varron, "but I must still reward you with something. You saved the lives of myself and my family, Banon and Myra here. If nothing else, I beg you to come with us to South Figaro. Please, at least let me demonstrate some hospitality."

Duncan looked to the man's son, Banon, who was smiling in a friendly manner, and his daughter, Myra, who also was favoring him with a kind smile. Ancients she was lovely.

He nodded. "Okay. I don't know how long I may stay in South Figaro, but I would be honored to join you in the city."

Varron smiled, then turned to his guards, ordering for the dead to be loaded onto a spare wagon, to be brought back with full honors to their families. A half-hour later, the caravan was once again on its way.

Duncan walked beside the first wagon the rest of the way, while the guards kept a much more careful eye on the surrounding area. Duncan would occasionally steal glances up at the wagon, and noticed that Myra's eyes never left him.

_Well now, this could definitely become an interesting trip_.


	3. Chapter 2: Mystery Attack

This update took a while for me to get up, I'm having a little trouble getting started, but stick with me on this, because this is the beginning of an epic. Once the characters become known things should get better. As always, I appreciate all reviews. Thank you an enjoy.

* * *

_**Spring 987 A.M.**_

It wasn't young Duncan's first trip into South Figaro, but it would be the first one in which he didn't stay at his usual inn. Instead, he followed the Teshars through the city and sat with them for an hour at the father's, Varron's shop while he handled the stocking of the goods from the trip for later distribution, and wrote letters to the families of the slain guards.

When he had finished, the four of them walked through the city to their home on the eastern edge of the city. When they reached the Teshar home, they prepared a simple dinner and then sat down to eat.

As they ate, Duncan shared a great deal of information with them. While Varron knew most of the stories about the Ironhand martial arts, a lot of what he knew was merely rumor. Duncan explained to them that his family's martial arts tradition went all the way back to the War of the Magi, to an order of warriors that fought against the Espers until they left the world. Since that day, the art had mostly been lost except for the Ironhand family, who had passed it down for the last thousand years.

Duncan explained to him that the world-famous Blitz techniques were not a form of magic, but rather the Blitz Master drew upon the life energies within himself and that could be drawn from the world around him.

"Duncan, please stay here and enjoy our hospitality," Varron invited him as they cleaned up the meal, "I know that you didn't want any kind of reward, but at least some good companionship can be a start."

Duncan gave the three of them a wide smile, full of warmth, one that had never been given to anyone but his own parents. "I told you that I don't need a reward. Your gratitude is more than enough for me. But I have been wandering for several weeks, so your hospitality is very appreciated."

Banon came over and put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "I want you to know that I'll be eternally grateful to you, Duncan. You saved my little sister. I will always consider you a friend."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Banon," replied the young martial artist, sparing a glance around the other man to see Myra, who was smiling shyly.

"Oh, by the way Duncan, whatever has happened to your father?" asked Varron, "There were many rumors a year or two ago that the famous Blitz Master had died."

Duncan shook his head. His father had asked him not to tell anyone, but he trusted the Teshars not to betray him. "For some reason my father wanted to disappear entirely from the face of the world. He never told me why he did, but it was something he felt he had to do. So he retired to Nikeah with my mother. She was from there and always wanted to return. So my father took them back there when he vanished. Now they live on the money from my mother's family and the little my father has from his original adventuring days."

Varron nodded, amazed that even these days someone as famous as the Blitz Master could vanish so easily. He smiled as Myra went over to Duncan.

"Come on," she said, pulling gently on the boy's arm, "let me show you to your room."

* * *

In spite of Duncan's regular comments of being ready to leave, the martial arts master remained in South Figaro with Banon and Myra for the next two weeks. Over that time, he spent many long hours with both of them, exploring the city, meeting their friends, and describing a few of his adventures with his father, as well as some of the Ironhand training techniques.

Duncan began to develop a genuine friendship with both of the other youths, a relationship that he had never had before in his life. He had been his father's only student, and training in the wilderness did not help develop one's social skills. But the other two accepted his occasional poor comments and the silence that Duncan used when he had no words.

One evening, the three friends went to one of South Figaro's many clubs, where they had spent the night dancing and enjoying each other's company. It was past midnight when the three of them finally began to make their way back to the Teshar home.

Myra was hanging onto Duncan's arm. "Thank you for a wonderful evening," she said coyly.

Duncan nodded briefly. "It was my pleasure, Myra. I'm glad that you had a good time tonight."

Walking a few steps behind them, Banon shook his head. If they got any more disgusting on him…

"Hold it right there!"

Out of the shadows stepped nearly a dozen men, all of them were armed. Banon whipped out his small knife and Duncan pushed Myra behind him.

"Who are you?" demanded Banon.

The thugs didn't answer him. One of them pointed to Duncan. "That's him. He's the son."

He made a motion with his hand and the attackers rushed forward.

Duncan met the first two with a roundhouse kick that knocked both men unconscious before they hit the ground.

Banon made a quick spin around his attacker, plunging his knife into the man's hip, then grabbed the thug's sword.

Three more men came at Duncan. It was their last mistake. Duncan focused on one of his blitzes, exploding into movement and pummeling the first to his lower ribs on the left side. The attack splintered the ribcage and shredded his insides. The other two were met with a double kick, stunning them, and then Duncan grabbed one, leaping high into the air and brought the man down headfirst into the cobblestone road.

Banon was holding his own against two other attackers. He made a feint to the left, drawing both of the men that way, then quickly reversed his momentum, slashing in a wide arc that caught one of them across the chest.

Duncan threw a light snap kick at another who attacked him, sending him spinning away.

Five other thugs died as they attacked the two young men, unable to overcome their superior skills.

"Hold it!"

Both Duncan and Banon spun around, seeing the one man that Duncan had kicked aside. The thug had one hand around Myra's throat, the other had his knife pressed into her back.

"Now, we're gonna make a little deal, aren't we pipsqueak," said the man looking directly into Duncan's eyes, "you're gonna come with me nice and easy, or this little sweetheart is going to have the worst day of her short life."

Banon roared and lunged forward drawing his sword back. The thug pulled back the knife, and in that moment Duncan leapt high into the air.

But neither man got there in time. The man stabbed Myra from behind, and she cried out briefly in pain before falling to the ground.

Banon landed his blow to the man's side, spearing through the ribs at the same time that Duncan launched a kick that crushed his throat. As soon as the man fell to the ground, both men were at Myra's side.

"Duncan, you have a fenix down?" cried Banon.

The martial artist shook his head sadly, looking at Myra, whose eyes were taking in both her brother and him. Banon let out a cry of rage and anguish.

Duncan shook his head sadly, he wanted to be with his two friends. Then he saw something. Banon's hands were beginning to glow with a strange light, and green sparks jumped across his palms.

"Banon…" whispered Duncan.

Banon turned his tear-filled eyes on his younger friend, who was staring pointedly at his hands. Banon looked down, and his eyes widened.

As both men watched, the green sparks seemed to jump from Banon's hands onto Myra, landing at random. But they quickly began to concentrate at her wound, and sparks flew faster and faster until a nearly-continuous green light flowed from Banon's hands to the wound.

Several moments later, the light faded. Duncan and Banon both looked on astonished, and Myra blinked several times in confusion.

"Umm, guys, what just happened?" she asked in wonder.

Duncan shook his head, unable to answer. Banon could only think back to the words of that old Zozan healing woman from the caravan.

_You have hands that are made to heal…_

Myra cried out in joy and wrapped her brother in a hug. Duncan breathed a sigh of relief, then stepped away, giving the siblings a moment together. He went over to the leader of the attackers and began to search his pockets for anything.

A few minutes later, Banon and Myra came over to him, the latter was still a little shaky and was leaning on her brother for support.

"What did you find?" asked Banon.

Duncan shook his head. "Not much. They all have this same insignia, two intertwined rings. Other than that, nothing. Just some Doman coins in their pockets."

"You can't think they're Domans, do you?" protested Myra, "They're some of the most honorable men and women in the world."

"They could be," said Banon, "just as not everyone from Zozo is necessarily a liar, not everyone from Doma may be a pillar of virtue."

Duncan stood up and turned his back to the other two. This was a difficult decision, but it was one he had to make.

"I have to go to Doma," he said, "I have to get out of here. More of these attackers will come for me, I know they will. I've already placed both of you in far too much danger. I can't let any harm come to you because of me."

"You're not going anywhere, buddy," Banon retorted, "not without me."

Duncan turned to face him fully. "This isn't your fight, Banon. They came for me, not for you."

"They went after Myra," said the older man simply, "that means they made it my fight. And besides, if you go out alone, who the heck is going to watch your back. I'm going with you, whether you want me to or not."

The martial arts master blew out his breath and nodded. It might be good to have some comradeship on his journeys. The three of them hurried back to the Teshar home. Duncan was ready to leave in minutes, having never unloaded his traveling pack. Banon took a few moments to pack. Myra stopped them both before they left, giving her brother a tight hug as she cried. Then she came to Duncan, holding something in her hands.

"Duncan, I want you to have this," she said as she handed it to him. It was a beautiful sea-green stone set in a pendant with a silver chain. The stone was inscribed with a single ancient rune. "This was my mother's. The symbol is one of love. She told me that this would always help her find her way when she was lost. I hope it can do the same for you."

"This is the best gift anyone has given me, Myra," replied Duncan in as soft and kind a voice as he had, "I will treasure this more than anything else in the world. Some day I'll come back and see how you're doing. And don't worry, I'll keep your brother out of trouble."

The two of them shared a smile and a tender embrace, then Duncan pulled away and walked off alongside Banon. Myra stayed in the doorway, watching until the two of them disappeared into the darkness. She had no idea that it would be years before she would see them again.


End file.
